All I know
by magicsnop
Summary: Later that night, Sakura lies in bed wondering if Sasuke likes mango ice cream, too. Or, alternatively, ten times Sakura Haruno loved Sasuke Uchiha.


i. Sakura is 8 years old when she first sees Sasuke Uchiha. She knows his name, of course, because who hasn't heard of the youngest Uchiha boy? He walks with his father and older brother, one hand in his pocket and the other around a kunai-a gift, maybe, for his first day as an academy student. Sakura picks at the hem of her dress, still entranced, as she half-listens to her father telling her mother about something he'd encountered at work that day. The setting sun dances off of Sasuke's black hair, and Sakura can even make out the tilt of a smile on his face from across the street. Her mother asks her if she'd like some mango ice cream on their way home.

Later that night, Sakura lies in bed wondering if Sasuke likes mango ice cream, too.

ii. Sakura is 9, and has decided that, yeah, Sasuke- _kun_ is pretty cute. Not only is he cute, but his grades prove that he's smart like her, and even pretty skilled at all this ninja stuff they've been learning. He doesn't have very many friends, but she supposes that great ninjas have spend their freetime training.

When she goes home that evening with one less friend and yet humming nonetheless, his name is familiar when it rolls off of her tongue. She's not so sure what's so funny about "Sasuke-kun" that her parents feel the need to laugh when she first mentions him at dinner, but she's far from deterred. _It doesn't matter what Ino thinks_ , she decides. She doesn't need Ino. Maybe she never has.

iii. They're 12 now, about to graduate from the academy, and Sasuke-kun has been even quieter lately. Instead of his shy and polite yet at times playful demeanor, he's broody and angry. He rejects most interaction unless it's to call her annoying or talk to one of their sensei.

Sakura's not dumb-far from it, actually. Though they have yet to be assigned to their teams, she knows she's at the top of their class in terms of grades. She _also_ knows that her everyone has been talking a lot about what happened to Sasuke-kun's family.

When she's assigned to a team with Sasuke-kun and that weird kid Naruto, to say she's on cloud nine would be an understatement. On that day, they meet Kakashi-sensei, who's equal parts strange and late.

Later, on the rooftop, Sakura and Naruto stare at Sasuke-kun in wonder as he mysteriously imparts his mysterious plans and interests upon the group. Sakura has yet to discover much of what "love" really means, but she decides in that moment that whatever it is that Sasuke-kun stands for, she feels drawn to.

iii. Sasuke-kun almost _dies_.

Team 7 is barely past their share of D-rank missions-brushing the requirements bar, really. They're escorting a grumpy old drunk, Tazuna, who oh-so-conveniently forgot to mention his wanted status at any point before being attacked. Sasuke-kun fights a masked man named Haku. Sakura watches. His skin gets cold and clammy, and all she can do is cry.

iv. He leaves. It's been a long time coming, honestly, maybe even before the chunin exams, before the damned curse mark, but it doesn't change the fact that Sakura is absolutely _heartbroken_. Not just because she caught him on his way out (shouted her love at the top of her lungs, desperate and clingy and oh so pathetic, only to be knocked out and thrown on a bench), but because she _knows_ Sasuke. She knows the boy he is inside, the playful yet polite 8 year old who her parents grew so fond of just from her stories of him, the one who strove for greatness and recognition for himself, not just for revenge. She knows him, or at least who he was. Who he could be.

Naruto leaves, too, but comes back time and time again with worried eyes and bandaged wounds, always a smile on his face.

Sakura wonders if people can really change.

v. Sakura is 14 and tired. She's not tired in the way she used to be, when her bones ached with sadness and sobs shook her to the core every night. Rather, her muscles burn with growth and her head aches with the overwhelming amount of knowledge she crams into it every day.

Instead of wandering the streets like a lost puppy, she searches the shops for medical herbs before returning to the library or training or, least frequently, her home. She keeps a journal of things she'd like to tell Naruto when he returns from training with Jiraiya, and Sasuke too.

She wishes, not for the first time, that things could go back to the way they should be. This time, she doesn't cry at the thought.

vi. He's here.

After years of searching, training, running... Sasuke is finally within their reach. An explosion sends Sakura sprinting towards the warm embrace of sunlight and something more. Sakura can _feel_ him, except it's not really him at all. This energy...it's wicked, sinister, all-consuming, yet under it lies something so distinctly _Sasuke_. He says her name, watches with masked satisfaction as she slowly turns to face him, body rooted to the spot. She's not entirely sure if it's shock, fear, or adrenaline that's most responsible for her wide eyes and the impossibly loud pounding of her heart in her ears.

She watches as he and Naruto have their usual standoff, just the two of them in their own space and time, something she could never hope to understand.

The metal of Sasuke's katana glints in the heat of the afternoon sunlight, and Sakura wonders why they bothered coming all this way at all.

vii. Sakura is 16, and Sasuke's hand is wrapped around her throat.

She thinks of Naruto-how some of her last words to him were a false confession of love that she never got the chance to explain. She feels of the weight of the kunai she failed to drive forward some four inches more. She thinks of Kakashi-sensei, and how she could never quite make him care as much as he did for either of her teammates. She thinks of cutting her hair to protect her precious people, and deciding to keep it short as a reminder. She thinks of mango ice cream, and all of the reasons why the man digging his nails into the flesh of her neck is not, in fact, her Sasuke-kun.

 _It's okay_ , she thinks as she stares down into the blank eyes of this Sasuke-impostor. _You could never hurt me._

viii. They're 17, and she's looking straight at his back. It's an all too familiar scene, of course without the kunai pointed at his back or the crawling, destructive energy of his chakra smothering every ounce of her being. The maniacal sound of his laughter still rings in her ears, and she leans into Naruto without noticing.

Later, he puts her under his genjutsu, drives a hand straight through her chest. She can destroy boulders with the tip of her pinky, battle Goddesses, unlock the 100 Healings mark...yet in the presence of this boy, none of that seems to matter. It seems that no matter her age or skill, she will always just be a burden to him-just another person who cares for him just about as much as she gets in his way. He will always bring her to her knees.

And then...an apology. Tears. The stain of blood and the glow of healing. Three smiling souls.

ix. He leaves. Again.

Sakura's not entirely sure how or why she's meant to play this part-the girl who waits for him, the girl who loves and loves with so little for her to hold on to. The scene is a stark contrast to 5 years prior, but the differences are greatly welcome.

She asks to go with him. Sasuke-kun, of course, refuses. She hangs her head, both embarrassed and disappointed (in the situation? in herself?). Thoughts of every sort run rampant in her mind, scolding herself for putting so much hope into one suggestion. Out of the very periphery of her vision, from underneath her fringe she sees the slightest movement of Sasuke-kun's hand from under his cloak, and she tries not to imagine every other time she'd seen the same movement from him and ended up with a hand around her neck, or rendered unconscious and left on a bench, or...

Sakura startles as she feels the poke of his fingers against her forehead. Gentle, yet firm enough for her to catch that there is some purpose, some deeper significance to the gesture. His soft "thank you" leaves her breathless, only able to stare after his retreating figure and look towards the future.

x. Sakura is 19, and she's just returned from a particularly long shift at the hospital. With the war having come to an end, her only real cases at the hospital as of the past few years had been regarding rehabilitation, training accidents, and good ol' illness. But as she had come to know after Tsunade's departure from Konoha, paperwork's a real bitch-especially on a busy day.

She trudges into her small apartment, kicking off her shoes and heading straight to the shower to wash up so she can hurry the hell up and get to bed already. She checks the clock hanging in the kitchen as she passes, and isn't at all surprised that it's well past two in the morning. The last time she saw that much paperwork whilst having to oversee the hospital staff, she didn't make it home until the sky began to gray with the very beginnings of sunrise.

She turns off the water, pulls on her pajamas, and opens the bathroom door, letting the steam roll out and into her dark bedroom as she towel-dries her hair. She stands in the doorway, staring into the room (which, as of late, has begun to feel impossibly empty). She eyes the picture of Team 7 on her nightstand, as she does every night, before trudging to the living room to sit down on the couch and turn on the TV. She does so with a satisfied sigh as she sinks into the cushions of the sofa, flipping through useless channels for the sake of staying updated in the village affairs.

She's just begun to doze without realizing when 3 sharp knocks sound on her front door. Sakura rubs her eyes as she rises, checking the clock again as she turns to open the door.

 _It's three in the morning,_ she thinks to herself, as irritated as she is wary. Nobody had needed to retrieve her for assistance on an urgent case at the hospital in years, as nobody had unnecessarily complicated, life-threatening injuries anymore. _Who the_ hell _would-_

Sasuke-kun. Sasuke-kun, is who the hell would be here, standing at Sakura's doorstep in all of his tall, handsome, one-armed glory. The sight before her is one that she will save forever, she know. He stands tall, but the slight curve of his shoulders show the wear of constantly traveling. His rinnegan is covered by his slightly-longer hair, yet his uncovered eye has something in it that she's never seen before-not in the eyes of _Sasuke-kun_ , at least.

 _It's...warmth-_

"I'm home."


End file.
